


Maybe the end has Come

by dledee



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Comics)
Genre: Gen, placed after 9x23
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 22:31:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dledee/pseuds/dledee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She can feel herself slipping away, she can feel the memories blur and fade. <br/>But somehow, it doesn't feel as dreadful as it was supposed to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe the end has Come

      It feels as if her mind is swimming with words unsaid, thoughts that seem to slip away right before she can reach for them. Something's wrong. Something's  _very_  wrong. But she can't grasp what it is, reality seeming further and further away with each tick of the clock. Even her identity is becoming muddled beyond the teenage dilemma of finding one's way in the world of people who have figured themselves out.  _He_  says she's the Slayer's sister, that that should mean something, that she just needs to believe in 'Buffy'. But there's a transparency in her own body. 

                                                                               _S l i p p i n g  s l i p p i n g  s l i p p i n g ._

      Everything would be so much easier if she could remember who he is, if she could be sure she could trust him to tell her who she is. A name seems like such a basic notion, but even that seems unreachable. At this point, it's not truly a question of a who, but of a what. The who can only come after she has figured out the what, isn't it so? Without the 'what', everything else feels redundant. 

      But trying to hold to replies demands so much effort, wanting to remember is so  _hard_. Is it so wrong to just forget? To give in to what someone bigger than her clearly wants?

      Her mind's reeling back, ancient memories of times and places she has been in but somehow seem to make sense, a strange understanding of the world's machinations falling upon her, things she knows are not meant to make sense, suddenly do. Such huge things that should mean something to her but don't, but feel so trivial as the fact that she doesn't know herself. Because how can you place the importance of impossible knowledge when there's no perspective upon it. What is this meant to mean if she can't even remember herself, if she can't remember the questions that she has the answers to?

      Answers are useless without questions, that's the conclusion she can reach.

      He thinks she won't know. He thinks that just standing there and trying to act unconcerned will make her feel better. But it doesn't. It can't. Because he's only reminding her that there's  _important_  things she should remember, that  _he_  should remember. And the pain is so much worse when it's so divided. She should never had left the bathroom she had locked herself into, she should never have taken to seeing anyone again. 

      The pain is real, it's there, it's in the moment. And then it's not. Then it becomes the past and memory and it gradually grows more and more blurred, more meaningless, as if unimportant. And then it doesn't matter where she's at. Every place is the same, every place is as painful and as painless as the next. All that's there is the face of someone she thinks she should remember even though she's not sure why.

      It would be so much easier to fall asleep, to fall back into the fabric of the universe and into nothingness. But some small part of her that feels suddenly to have awaken reassures her it won't be like that. She won't become nothing. She was never nothing to begin with, but something different, something that has no need for memories. Exactly what, seems to escape her as everything else in this world, but the thought that it could be true, the strange certainty that it is true, allows her to remain calm in the face of this.

      No, it's not the leather bound figure that keeps on using words like 'believe in Buffy' like a mantra that's assured to work that makes her feel like it will all end alright. After all,  _he_  doesn't know her and she doesn't know herself, not like that little bit of her that seems strangely aware and unconcerned with the lack of memories knows her, that voice which softly tells her without words that there's a life beyond this, even if they all forget her.

       Her existence isn't bound to the memories of these people who can't even tell her her name. No, it's bigger and more important. More relevant, in a way. There's a bigger plan that they're not aware of. But that's what she'll fall into when they forget every single memory they have fabricated with her.

_Now if only she could finally rest. She knows she can't. But if she could..._


End file.
